


Not Your Baby

by lexyhamilton (ohheichoumyheichou)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha Negan (Walking Dead), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Rick Grimes, Political Alliances, Power Dynamics, but nobody knows what that is in this fic, rick grimes actually playing his cards right (canon atypical)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohheichoumyheichou/pseuds/lexyhamilton
Summary: After Jadis betrays and shoots Rick, he wakes up in the Sanctuary, injured but alive, and pretty confused as to why Negan is nursing him back to health. Negan has his reasons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hate author's notes but feel like a couple are necessary for a fic of this type.
> 
> 1) Although this is an ABO fic, the setup is a little atypical. In this postapocalyptic world, ABO became activated in some men without their knowledge. For all intents and purposes, it's a new, uncharacterized phenomenon. There's knotting and mpregnancies but no discernable heats or pairing behaviors-- at least nothing egregious enough for people to notice. It's just an extra way for people to reproduce when the human race feels its survival collectively threatened. Compare it to fish changing sex depending on school ratios.   
> In short, men and women can have children, and, in parallel, a contingent of men can impregnate another contingent of men, and nobody is really aware of this so far.
> 
> 2) A note on sexual coercion by Negan: this fandom has had so many discussions on this, and this fic reflects just one possible interpretation of the character's ideology. For the purposes of this fic, Negan is for law and order and indeed doesn't tolerate his subordinates raping other subordinates or prisoners willy-nilly. He does see sexual coercion as a legitimate way to establish order, especially when the other party is supposedly making a "decision" to comply, however illegitimate such consent might be. This is analogous to how he wouldn't let Saviors murder each other or prisoners, but views public executions as a useful tool to establish hierarchies.  
> Not saying this is the only, or even a valid, interpretation of the canon character in comic or TV form. Just the characterization in this fic.
> 
> 3) This fic diverges from TV show canon at 7.16 but also changes a few events prior to that and implies that a few months, not a couple of weeks, transpire between 7.01 and 7.16

Rick awakens with a start, his eyes snapping open to see an unfamiliar ceiling. Last thing he remembers is Jadis and her people betraying Alexandria right at the moment of truth in their stand against the Saviors. The betrayal still stings. He can't remember how he got here, why he's in bed. There's a stabbing pain in his side, and that triggers his memory-- being shot by Jadis, just as he attempted to make another deal with her—his last-ditch attempt at trying to save Alexandria from imminent defeat. Jadis shot him and then kicked him off the watch tower on Alexandria's fence and that really is the last thing he remembers. He must have blacked out before or right after hitting the ground. He has no idea what happened to any of the rest of his people, to Carl, or Judith, or everyone else in Alexandria.

He tries to sit up and the pain is so unbearable it brings tears to his eyes, blooming up in places besides the one where he was shot and making him wonder just how injured he is. On top of that, he realizes belatedly that his wrists are tethered to the bedposts. He's woken up like this before—just when the Apocalypse started and Morgan was trying to make sure he wasn't bitten. Part of him breaks out in a cold sweat as a strange idea enters his mind. What if everything has been one long fever dream in a coma. What if he's waking up from that gunshot wound that happened while he was on duty, in the Old World. What if that's the only real world. This doesn't look like a hospital, but there's an IV line running into his right forearm, and there's definitely bandages or something of the kind on his torso under the sheets where he can't see.

Rick wants to moan for help, but something is stopping him. He's too used to danger to go out of his way to call attention to himself, especially when incapacitated. A large part of him wants to stay silent and wait—maybe figure out where he is and how he got here before whoever put him here returns. He doesn't have much time to ponder these options before a door opens and a somewhat familiar face appears.

"He's awake!" Dr. Carson calls back out to somebody. At this point, Rick is relieved that the last several years have not been a dream, but he also begins to wonder where he is. Dr. Carson was at Hilltop but this doesn't look like any building Gregory had access to...

"Well well well! Awake at last. Am I glad to see you back with us!"

The hairs on the back of Rick's neck stand on end at the timbre of a voice that's all too familiar. Negan's tall lanky form saunters into the room and Rick realizes any relief he's felt so far was very premature and short-sighted. Of course he's at the Sanctuary. Of course Negan acquired him and he's now a prisoner of war, likely to be executed or worse. He tries not to show his dread outwardly, but he can see his body starting a slow squirming away from the foot of the bed where Negan has leaned down and propped his elbows, watching Rick intently.

"You okay? Can ya talk?"

"I can talk," Rick answers gruffly, actually sounding hoarser than he expects to, his throat dry and feeling disused. "How long have I been out?" he ventures the question carefully, hating that he has to ask Negan for information like this, but also seeing no other option.

"It's two A.M. Hasn't been a day yet since your little wannabe revolution that you staged down there in your suburban oasis."

Negan smiles and if Rick didn't know any better he could even mistake it for genuine mirth, but he knows he must be furious. In fact, Rick can't really wrap his mind around why Negan appears to have gone out of his way to rescue him from a life threatening injury . 

"Let me fill you in," Negan offers, still smiling slightly, eyes still not having left Rick's form. "That garbage queen not only turned on you and your friends but shot you in the stomach for some reason, and saw it fit to kick you down a two story height after that. I didn't see any of that shit myself—your old friend Sasha was keeping me busy at the time—but others filled me in."

"I know all that," Rick cuts him off, surprised at his own impatience. "What happened to Alexandria? Where are my kids?"

"Carl is just fine. We located your adorable little girl too, good as you tried to hide her, and she's safe. Miss Samurai got into a pretty bad fight with one of those garbage people, but she's on the mend, being taken care of at Hilltop I think. Better off than you. All in all you didn't lose too many people, Rick, considering the obscenely ballsy scale of what you were trying to pull, and the massive, _massive_ level of failure in your plan."

Rick pointedly ignores Negan's irksome tone and choices of words. "Where are my kids?" he repeats.

"Little Judy is back at Alexandria. Nothing bad happening there right now, my people securing the perimeter, but no one is getting shot unless they do something stupid. And Carl is... he's here actually, down the hall."

Rick can't help but jerk, apprehension overriding pain.

"Easy, _easy_!" Negan says, finally walking around to be at Rick's side and sitting down on the bed. He's not wearing his leather jacket and Lucille is nowhere in sight, but Rick is still intimidated and shrinks away from where the mattress is dipping. "He came with us. Once you were out for the count, the fighting didn't last long at all. Most of your town gave up quick after the change in tides. Your kid was the one who found you, practically bleeding out. He came with us when we took you. Babysat your unconscious ass in the back of the truck bed and stanched the bleeding. Crazy woman got you in the spleen. Could have been worse, mind you, but still, you were bleeding out pretty bad. You're down a spleen, just so you know. It was one giant mess, we had to cut it out, but you were lucky. An inch or two lower or higher and you'd probably never wake up again. Good thing Carl came with, because you lost a lot of blood on the way."

"I need to see him," Rick says, his voice croaky but determined.

"He seemed fine. Looked a little pale after the transfusion, but he's okay I think. We gave him plenty of fluids. Mostly just worried about you. Kept muttering about how he couldn't lose another parent. That kid has seen things, Rick. He looked tired—you really want me to wake him up? "

"Guess not," Rick mumbles. 

"What do you say, Rick? I'd say I just gave you some pretty good fucking news, didn't I?"

"Thank you," Rick says, hesitantly, but he means it. It doesn't matter that he's thanking Negan for the simple act of not killing his family when just hours ago he had grand designs to defeat the Saviors and have them thanking him for sparing them. To be honest, Rick isn't sure if he would have spared them, let alone Negan.

Negan gingerly pulls the sheet aside and Rick looks down with him, finally seeing the gauze circling his waist, holding a thick piece of cotton over the place that must have been where the bullet went in. There's a large bruise spreading angry and purple on the right side of his ribcage. He probably cracked a rib or two from the fall. He hisses loudly when Negan just barely runs his fingertips over it.

"Does it hurt to breathe?" Negan asks, and it really sounds like genuine concern in his tone. Rick decides to stop questioning why he is bothering to take care of him.

"Not really. I guess if I breathe deeply."

Negan stops prodding, but still keeps poring over his body, which, Rick is uncomfortable to note, is completely nude aside from the bandages.

"What do you want," Rick finally asks through gritted teeth, uncomfortable with that strange stare that's lingering on his crotch. Rick desperately wants to fold up his legs and turn away on his side, but there is no way he could do it with the wrist tethers and the rib injuries. Negan's expression is unreadable, and Rick tries not to remember the night of their first meeting, when Negan took him for a ride in the RV. The man frightens him more than he cares to admit, especially when he's splayed out vulnerable like this, injured and ill, completely at Negan's mercy.

"I want so many things, Ricky. But first and foremost I want you to get _all_ better." Negan puts the sheet back over Rick and is all smiles and menacing teeth again.


	2. Chapter 2

"You thirsty? Hungry?"

Rick nods without enthusiasm. "Can I just have some water."

Negan leaves the room and Rick wonders about his position. He can't complain about the way Negan is providing for him, and although he wishes his hands could be freed from the bedposts, he's not about to ask for it. Part of him dreads what Negan wants in return for all his efforts. Carl's presence here is worrying Rick. Much as he'd love his son to stay near him, he'll have to insist that Negan send him back to Alexandria. He'll be lucky if Negan doesn't use his family as leverage against him now, but at least they're still alive, and the further away from Negan's immediate reach they can be, the better.

Negan walks back in with a glass of what looks to be clean water. He tries to prop Rick up in the bed slightly and Rick nearly starts crying with the pain of having his ribs shift into a different position. He can't believe he's reduced to this, and to have Negan of all people witness him be this weak and injured.

"Should I go try to find you a straw or something?" Negan asks but Rick shakes his head and grits his teeth and starts drinking propped up against the pillow despite what feels like a knife in his side.

Negan is holding the glass, minding the water level and tilting it just enough so Rick doesn't sputter. He glances over and sees Rick's eyes fixed on him as his throat works to gulp water. Negan grins, looking amused, and Rick is plunged right back into that night in the RV.

***

As soon as he handed over the axe and Negan declared his condescending "Atta _boy_!", Rick was hoping that they had enough of an understanding. He had been humiliated publicly and privately. He had acquiesced to Negan's pointless exercise and obeyed him. Even just handing over his axe felt almost physically painful because of what it symbolized.

Maybe it was naïve of Rick to think that would be the end of it—that they would drive back and Negan would be satisfied that Alexandria was under subjugation.

"Bend over," Negan said, still grinning.

Rick stared back, not moving a muscle,

"Bend over the table and let's complete this power transfer."

"No," Rick croaked out. He could feel his face break out in heat, and he didn't know if it was visibly red or not. Negan had to know that this was too much to ask, right?

"Ex-fucking-cuse me, did I just hear you say no to me after everything we just went over?"

Rick sniffed back the tears running into his nose that hadn't ever really let up ever since Negan began bashing people's heads in. This couldn't be happening.

"You still don't fucking understand, do you. That I own you. That what I'm asking for right now is within my rights, because I own you, and I'm only asking because I'm a polite motherfucker."

Rick said nothing, looking down at a random spot on the floor before him, eyes glassy. This wasn't happening.

"I'll ask you again, with detailed instructions since you don't seem to be getting the drift here. Walk on over to that dinette. Undo your fly. Pull your pants down to your knees, or lower if you want, your choice. Bend over the table and await further instruction, you stubborn little shit."

Rick stayed glued in place.

"You really want to drive back and do this part in public? I thought I'd give you the courtesy of a little privacy, but I guess you don't give a fuck. Kinky of you, I like it. Not sure even I'm that comfortable doing this in front of your boy, though. Seeing something like that has _gotta_ mess a kid up for life..."

Rick stumbled over to the table. A cold sweat was breaking out all over his face and body. Everything that had been happening in the last several hours felt completely surreal, like a long nightmare that he dearly wished he would just wake up from and feel relief. Relief never came, however.

Negan was right there behind him even as Rick leaned down to lower his jeans to his ankles.

"You wanna suck my dick for a bit so I don't have to plow into you dry?" Negan said, creepily close into Rick's ear.

Rick turned and lowered himself down mechanically. He was in some kind of hypnotic groove by now, not caring what was happening to him—as if he were somewhere far away from all these disturbing events. He took Negan's half-hard cock into his hand, studying it for a moment before wrapping his lips around the warm and pulsating length. He didn't lick—he was still somehow trying to avoid tasting it. In spite of all these efforts, a bitter salty flavor immediately spread throughout his mouth.

"I understand you haven't done this before, but I was kind of hoping you knew the logistics. Someone's done this for you at some point, right? Shouldn't you know you need to do more than just roll it around in your mouth? Give it some suction, dammit." 

Rick huffed through his nose, barely able to contain his rage. He contemplated biting down but Negan still held his axe in his hand. He'd likely be a dead man before he managed to do fatal damage to Negan. When he had gotten out of the situation with the Claimers, it was Carl being in danger that made him absolutely reckless. The situation here was different—there was no gun to his head, no child of his being attacked, so many more things to still lose other than his life. In fact, he worried what was happening in that forest clearing right now. There were lots of Saviors with lots of guns. Rick's people were no longer armed, but they were not likely to go down without a fight. Daryl, Michonne, even Rosita or Sasha could snap. Maggie might be living on borrowed time. The sooner he and Negan got back, the better chances of the situation not escalating and everyone surviving. 

Rick's cheeks hollowed as he sucked as violently as he could.

"And get the whole thing wet, Ricky, tip to taint. I'm not going to thrust into you halfway and then pull out."

Rick backed off, unable to deepthroat Negan's entire length down. He shifted to one side, licking the circumference of it down near to its base. He made the mistake of glancing up and seeing Negan's face staring straight back, looking infinitely amused. Rick lowered his gaze, and Negan eventually pushed him away with a hand to his forehead.

"Alright, Ricky! For a guy into chicks that wasn't half bad. Now you gotta just bend over and take what I give you. Easy peasy."

Rick stood up slowly, knees aching and also knocking into each other out of adrenaline as he leaned over the RV table. He winced as Negan threw the axe into the table's surface right in front of him, still covered in walker gore.

"Come on, you can spread your legs more than that."

Rick took off his jeans altogether, shaking with anger. The sooner they got back the better, he repeated to himself, almost as a mantra by now.

Negan entering him felt strange. It burned, and made him feel like there were spaces inside his body he didn't know he had. Rick ended up trying to spread his legs wider, to alleviate some of that sensation.

"Oh look at you! Taking to it like a fish to water! You sure you never done this before, Ricky?"

Rick made no reply. He was largely checked out, only concentrating on relaxing and not getting hurt in this process. He felt Negan's hands brace themselves against his shoulders and then the man began to piston in and out. True to his word, it was to the hilt almost each time—the front of Negan's thighs slapping against him, the obscene sound seeming to echo throughout the RV.

There was something dripping down Rick's thighs, and he could only guess he was bleeding. The pain had actually subsided by now, and though he wasn't getting pleasure from the act he could bear it, just waiting for Negan to finish.

Negan finished with a very loud groan, slapping Rick's ass as his cock pulsed, then falling onto Rick's back, breathing heavily.

What happened next was still a mystery to Rick. He felt something shifting in his body. At first he thought Negan was pulling out, but it felt like the opposite—like something else was filling him up even further.

Negan must have felt it too, because he jerked up, trying to pull away, Rick's body getting towed along with him.

"What the fuck is this," Negan wheezed breathlessly. He tried to pull out again, pushing against Rick's body with his hands, then moaning in pain at his own efforts.

Rick could barely hear anything over the din of the blood pumping through his ears.

Negan punched his back, shouting, sounding panicked, but Rick couldn't even listen, also making feeble efforts to pull forward and get away from the intrusion that now seemed stuck in his body.

"What the shit?! What the shit are you doing?" Negan said, punctuating each question with a punch to Rick's body. "Let go!"

Rick made a genuine effort to obey, and he could feel himself open up wider, feeling a lot more stuff oozing out of him, but it was as if Negan's cock was still held somewhere further up inside his body.

"What the shit is happening. What is all this?"

Negan thrust his hand in front of Rick's face, apparently covered in what was oozing out of him. It wasn't blood or semen.

Rick was panting heavily, still face down over the table until Negan pulled him upright, grabbing him by the chin.

"Is this some kind of party trick, Ricky? Cause I am impressed. How the fuck are you doing that."

"Not doing anything," Rick croaked out. "Trying to get away from you, but it ain't working."

They stood in the middle of the RV for a while, both still hoping and praying they could think of a way to pry themselves apart.

"This isn't normal," Negan said, as if there was a need to clarify. "Am I supposed to kill you to release my dick out of whatever vise you have in there?"

"Just... just give it a minute," Rick said.

They gave it more than a minute. Probably closer to fifteen before Negan found he could ease himself out. It was still awkward and painful and Rick cried out as he pulled out completely.

"The hell..." Negan muttered, stroking at his cock which still had a strange widened section. "You disfigured my handsome dick..."

Rick, for his part, fell forward to his knees, bewildered by everything that just happened. He reached back to his raw opening to find he was still dripping clear mucus.

"Well, no offense, but don’t think I'll be sampling that again, Ricky," Negan chuckled, brought back into good spirits as his dick finally returned to its normal state before he tucked it back into his pants. He watched the leader of Alexandria on the floor on all fours, still trembling. Finally he crouched beside him, extending a Kleenex he had in the front pocket of his jacket. "Clean yourself up, you're a total mess, leaking all over the place."

Rick wiped himself and pulled his jeans back on just as Negan turned on the engine. As he sat down on the pleather bench seat a terrible wave of lethargy washed over him. Negan wasn't saying much from the driver's seat, apparently a bit shaken by what had transpired himself. Despite all the stress and trepidation he was feeling, Rick found himself almost nodding off as the RV rumbled down the road, heading back to where they had left their people.

***

Rick feels his throat tighten at these memories from months before—memories he had tried and mostly succeeded in locking away for the sake of his own sanity. Negan is standing very close now, though, and giving him water, and this is starting to feel intimate and frightening. Rick hasn't told anyone in Alexandria the actual extent of what happened in the RV. He still doesn't fully understand what happened himself. Sometimes he doubts his recollection of events because things seemed pretty surreal that night. The only other person he can ask to verify what happened is standing over him, nursing him back to health for no discernable reason, and Rick doesn't feel like bringing it up ever again.

"What's the matter? Why're you looking at me like that?" 

Rick remains silent. His need to take a piss is mounting, but Negan is the last person he wants touching those parts of his body. "Can I see Carl in the morning?" he asks instead. He isn't about to take anything for granted, no matter how kindly Negan seems to be treating him at the moment.

"Well, of course! Maybe we'll just have breakfast in this room, the three of us."

Rick tries hard not to grimace. He would have preferred to see his son alone, but something told him Negan isn't going to give him that kind of freedom.

"I've been dying to have a family meal with the Grimeses for a while now," Negan adds, winking, and Rick makes a wan attempt to reciprocate a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Negan had been angry at Rick the day of the rebellion. So angry, in fact, that when he saw Rick's unconscious body splayed out on the ground, bleeding a visible puddle into the grass, he felt no real compassion. Much as he favored Rick amongst the other community leaders leading up to those events, this was a betrayal and a spit in the face in response to what Negan felt was treatment well beyond lenient. Had he not allowed Alexandria to keep all their food? Had he not oh-so-graciously overlooked Carl trying to assassinate him and killing two men in the process? 

Carl was the one who moved him to mercy. He liked the kid, there was no denying it, and he just couldn't say no to that tear-stained face looking up at him, pleading to spare his father even as Negan had already walked up and pointed a gun at Rick's head, ready to dispatch him.

There was no doctor in Alexandria, nor even many medical supplies. Negan doubted that Rick would survive the long drive back to the Sanctuary in that state, but Carl was resolute. 

Negan gave them a ride, son tending to his father in the back of one of the flatbed trucks. During the drive back, Negan was sitting in the passenger seat of the truck directly behind the one transporting Carl, providing him front row seats to the Grimes family show taking place. 

Negan's anger cooled significantly as he watched the teenager keep applying diligent pressure to Rick's wound the whole length of the trip, mouthing words that were directed either at his unconscious father or some deity the kid had been led to believe could help him out of their predicament. In these days of no television and soap operas, Negan was enjoying this sort of high drama. They were pretty people, the two of them, and as annoyed as Negan was with everything Rick had done that day, he couldn't help but acknowledge now that he would miss him if he died. He was outright rooting for Rick to survive by the time the trucks rumbled into the gravel-covered driveway of the Sanctuary.

***

"This isn't really ideal," Dr. Harlan Carson explained as he moved the probe over Rick's abdomen. "I can find metal shrapnel that might have come off the bullet, but I might not see bone fractures well with this. You can only really rule out spine fractures with an x-ray."

Negan shrugged. He tried watching the flickering gray of the sonogram machine screen but none of the kaleidoscope-looking curves meant anything to him. He looked over at Rick instead, oxygen mask fixed firmly over his nose and mouth. By the time they brought him in his blood volume was dangerously low, and Carson put him on IV fluid and oxygen right away. Like a fucking professional hospital, Negan thought with pride, as he surveyed Rick's supine body. This Dr. Carson was certainly a less useful specialty than his brother, but all in all, considering the latter had been burned in the furnace, the Sanctuary was still doing alright in the medical department. All that was missing from this scene was one of those fancy EKG machines. He looked across Rick's chest at Carl, who was holding two fingers against Rick's wrist, monitoring his pulse.

"I think I see some hairline rib fractures. No displacement. He'll be hurting but it should be healing in a week or two. No lung punctures, thank God. Looks like some blunt force trauma...?"

"He fell off a tall-ass structure," Negan provided.

"He was pushed off," Carl corrected him, face contorting in anger at the memory.

"Well, the good news is I don't see anything metal. Looks like the bullet went clear through here..." Carson kept on narrating without turning away from the screen. "It did graze his spleen as it left his body though... right... here... the whole organ is pretty damaged."

Carson was pointing to something by honing in with the probe but Negan would be damned if he saw anything interpretable on the screen. Carl was leaning in, completely immersed in the ultrasound image and Negan wondered if he was the only one in the room who couldn't make sense of it.

"I'm afraid I'll have to remove it completely. It's pretty much ruptured all the way through and that's where he's losing all the blood from, currently."

"You can live without a spleen just fine, right?" Carl asked, his voice betraying all his worried desperation for good news.

"Yeah, in the scheme of things, it's a dispensable organ," Carson supplied. "He'll be more prone to infections and the like--"

"But he's not gonna die, right?" Carl interrupted the doctor.

"I... will definitely try my best," Carson said, the hesitation coming through in his voice. "It's not a simple surgery, and strictly speaking I'm not trained as a surgeon..."

Negan was distracted, watching Rick's pulse, somehow visible in his neck, and the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest. He wasn't sure how optimistic he was about Rick surviving all this. Rick was a stubborn, tenacious fucker, but at least part of the reason Negan was staying in the room was to protect the Sanctuary's one doctor from a potential corpse reanimation event. He was staring at the long eyelashes of Rick's closed eyes, watching for the rare occasional flutter. It was a while before he noticed Carson had fallen uncharacteristically silent.

"What's wrong?" Carl finally asked.

"I- I... don't really understand..." Carson muttered under his breath, moving the probe around frantically. He was outright trembling. "Wait..." He glanced back and forth between Rick and the screen. "Get the boy out of here for a minute."

Carl began protesting wildly, shouting that he needed to know what was wrong and refusing to be escorted out. Negan dragged him out by the collar after threatening to make use of his bat. He bid Dwight, who had been standing outside the door, to keep Carl outside and promised to throw the teenager into a locked cell if he kept making a disturbance.

"What's the matter?" Negan asked as he shut the door, debating how distraught he would feel about bad news about Rick at this point in their efforts to resuscitate him.

"Help me take his pants off..."

Negan pulled Rick's bloodied jeans down to his knees without a word. He wasn't even capable of making a joke about the request because of how agitated Carson looked at the moment. He watched incredulously as the doctor examined Rick's genitals, going so far as picking up the testicles and checking underneath.

"... Found what you were looking for?" Negan finally ventured, cracking a smile. "Everything looks in order to me."

"That's just the thing..." Carson muttered to himself, and Negan was taken aback by how pale the other man had turned. "Look..." Carson pointed to the screen again and Negan obliged him without enthusiasm.

"Wait, is that..." Negan could feel his eyes getting wider and wider. "Is that a fucking fetus skeleton inside him?!"

"I... don't know what else it could be..." Carson said. "Here's the head, this is the spine... here, let me switch it back to soft tissue mode..." Carson began fumbling around with the machine before applying more gel and pressing the probe back against Rick's relatively flat abdomen.

"Holyfucking..." Negan trailed off, covering his mouth as he looked at the tiny unmistakable gray silhouette. "It's a fucking baby..."

Carson was moving the probe all around, trying to get multiple angles. "I don't really understand what it's inside of..."

"Are you sure that's real?"

Carson threw Negan a pointed look, visibly annoyed. "What are you asking. I'm an obstetrician, this is my bread and butter, I know one when I see one."

"Is it alive?" Negan asked, his heart going a mile a minute, shivers running down his spine.

Carson almost tripped over himself trying to get the stethoscope on his table. He applied it and nodded. "Sure is."

Negan covered his mouth then pulled his hand down his chin, stretching his skin with it, overwhelmed like he hadn't been in ages. "So what... Rick... is one of these hermaphrodites, or..."

"I... don't really know. Everything down there looks textbook and male but..." Carson went back to the ultrasound. "It's some kind of womb-like space... I don't really see any... well no, it's hard to tell from this because we're in uncharted territory but it looks like there's another set of gonads up inside here... and down there it almost connects... I have to tell you, this type of thing is completely unheard of..."

Negan was hardly listening anymore, lost in his own whirling thoughts. Rick was fucking pregnant. It had to be from that time in the RV, it just _had_ to be. He was the father. He felt such an intense eruption of joy at this thought that it scared him, but really... after all those attempts... years with Lucille, then with this veritable _gaggle_ of wives, and nothing to show for it, nada. He was pretty convinced he was shooting blanks. And then just a one night stand with Rick fuckin' undercover hermaphrodite Grimes and he hits the jackpot.

Negan remembered that night vividly. He was sure Rick didn't know, but he was the first man Negan ever went that far with. And far was the right word, because although Negan had had plenty of backdoor fun with women, something bizarre happened in that RV. Truth be told, he still had eyes for Rick when he came to visit Alexandria for pickups. It was the terrifying memory of having his dick irretrievably trapped that was keeping those impulses at bay.

"If this was a normal pregnancy, I'd say this looks like 15 or 16 weeks to me, but I don't even know what to say in this situation." Carson looked like he was going to tear his hair out with nervousness.

"I'll bet it's 16," Negan replied casually, amused at Carson blinking back at him in confusion.

"Listen, don't tell anyone about this yet," Negan instructed Dr. Carson. He wrapped his arm around the doctor conspiratorially. "Do that spleen operation, or whatever it is you gotta do to save him. You have to do everything you can to make sure he survives, you hear? Spare no expense. I'll off and drain ten of my people if that's how much blood you're gonna need." 

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that..." Carson muttered, wiping the sweat that was beading on his brow. "I have to... I have to drink some water, use the restroom, and then I'll get right on it."

Negan and the doctor exited the room together, nearly opening the door into Dwight's back. Carl immediately tried to push his way back in.

"What's wrong with my dad?!"

"Nothing's wrong. He's gonna be okay if we can help it. But buckle up, kid-- you're probably going to have to give up quite a bit of blood for Daddy."

Negan couldn't help but feel a certain level of affection at how serious Carl looked as he nodded, determination written all over his face. This whole family was utterly delightful, and goddamn but he was going to become a part of it if Rick could make it through this.


	4. Chapter 4

Carl wakes up past nine in the morning. He tries calling for someone through the door to no avail. The room is furnished comfortably enough but there's no window or any natural light coming in. The concrete walls and the door being locked make it more of a prison cell rather than a room, despite the nice upholstery on the bed, and the video gaming unit Negan pointed out before locking Carl in.

Carl isn't about to touch anything but the bare necessities here. He uses the commode, where you have to use a bucket of water to flush. The Sanctuary's plumbing is much less sophisticated than Alexandria's, that much is evident. After some more time passes he relents and drinks down the glass of milk Negan left on the table for him after escorting him into the room. Carl thought he'd be too proud to have it, but he's too hungry and thirsty at this point.

He lies back in bed, still feeling woozy and cold. They had to take two pints, Dr. Carson told him after taking the needle out of his arm. His dad probably lost a whole lot more even before they left Alexandria. That ride felt like the longest in Carl's life, putting pressure on the wound while watching his dad's face go ashen and his lips turn bluer and bluer. He's starting to fear that the reason no one has come around for him is that his father ended up dying anyway.

"You decent, kid? Ready to visit Dad?" 

Carl has never been so happy to hear Negan's voice. He bolts out bed.

"Is he okay?" Carl asks, standing on tiptoe while trying to look behind Negan's shoulder although it's ridiculous to expect his dad to be able to stand behind him.

"Goddamn, Carl, do you _sleep_ with that bandage on? Didn't I tell you to take it off before?"

Carl doesn't even argue and unwraps it quickly, not caring that Negan likes to stare at his disfigurement.

"Did my dad wake up? I have to see him."

"Just hold on. Your dad's still asleep. I was thinking we'd go down to the kitchens and have breakfast ready for him."

"But did he wake up after the operation?"

"Sure did." Negan grins. "Don't glare at me like that! I wasn't about to wake you up in the middle of the night. He asked for you of course-- don't think he didn't. Peas in a fucking pod, the two of you."

Negan does all of the cooking, Carl's only job being to drink down a tall glass of tomato juice. Carl hates the taste and he hates that he finds himself able to relax in Negan's presence, as if he can legitimately trust Negan to take care of his dad. As if Negan isn't the villain who killed two members of their group with glee—with the same cheery smiley face that he is blueberry-dotting into the sorghum pancakes he's frying up.

"We're not five years old," Carl mutters as he stares at pancake bubbling on the pan, taking one final swig from his glass.

"Oh I know, both of you are fucking adults with fucking serious jobs and oh-so-serious faces," Negan says. "You're rockin' a red mustache, by the way."

Carl wipes away the tomato juice with the back of his hand. "Why would we be smiling around you."

"Cause I am a funny guy, but none of you Alexandrians have a sense of humor. Scrambled, boiled, or sunny side up?" Negan asks without turning away from the stove. "Sorry, I'm not doing poached, not even for guests of honor."

Carl never quite knows what to make of Negan. He watches him now, switching over from pancakes to eggs, an apron protecting his pristine white t-shirt. He's shaved off his stubble, his hair is slicked back with some kind of hair product and Carl can swear he's wearing cologne. It's so tempting to forget that this is the man who tormented them every week with unreasonable pickups, who kept using threats against Carl to terrorize and beat down his father into submission. Here, hovering over the stove, Negan could almost pass for a family friend, like someone who could act as surrogate parent while his real dad is incapacitated. Carl remembers Shane for a moment before putting that memory away, not wanting to think about how that ended. He has no desire to think about how this situation might end either.

"Can I trust you with a knife, kid?" Negan asks. "Think you can handle cutting up this honeydew into cubes?"

Carl works to find the best way to cube the melon as Negan starts whistling a tune which echoes off the concrete walls of the large kitchen. There are a few other people doing meal prep but they are clearly keeping their distance from the VIP presence in the room.

" _...your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'..._ " Negan transitions from whistling to muttered lyrics as the last of the scrambled eggs is ushered off the frying pan into a plate. "Know this song, Carl?"

Carl shakes his head even though it sounds pretty familiar.

"Seriously? God, we gotta get you listening to some records while you're with us. Ricky is clearly neglecting your education. Don't tell me all you know is that country shit."

Carl shrugs. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to hear the collection.

A Savior Carl doesn't recognize comes into the kitchen informing Negan that Dr. Carson says Rick is ready to receive visitors and Negan promises to be right up.

"What does that mean?" Carl asks, on guard again. "What did you guys do to my dad?"

"I assume he means awake, with clothes on, and hopefully at least ibuprofened the fuck up. Maybe took a piss. Jesus, Carl, I'm not a monster. You think I'd chat you up here while I ordered your half-alive daddy to be tortured or some shit?"

"Don't call him half-alive," Carl says morosely.

***

Negan makes Carl carry a tray of food, which isn't a trivial task, with all the metal stairways that connect the Sanctuary's many floors. Negan carries another tray balanced on just one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. Now that Carl is following him, the smell of cologne is unmistakable.

Once the door to the infirmary is opened, Carl can't help himself. He quickly sets the tray down on the floor and rushes in, practically throwing himself around his father's neck.

"Hey, watch it! Don't jostle his ribs now..." Negan admonishes, but Rick is hugging Carl back just as tightly, kissing him on top of his head now and then. 

"I thought you were gonna die!" Carl sobs into Rick's shoulder. "You were so cold by the time we got here—I didn't know what to do."

"I'm alright," Rick says, stroking his son's hair. "We're gonna be alright. You did everything right." Carl can see Rick's eyes turning to Negan and there's still a lot of apprehension in that gaze. It's always painful for Carl to witness that.

Negan is taking the opportunity to pour drinks. "Here, a tall glass of tomato juice for the two blood losers in the room, and a Bloody Mary for the host. Carson, you gonna partake?"

Dr. Carson smiles and shakes his head, excusing himself out into the hallway.

Carl grimaces as Negan forces him to take the glass. "I don't want this."

"Carl." Rick's tone says everything. _Be polite. Don't escalate a situation with a guy like this. It's a gift to be alive right now._

"I already had one," Carl protests, but both adults ignore him.

Negan makes his glass about one part tomato juice to two parts Jack and quite a bit of Tabasco sauce that must be expiring some fifty years from now. Condiments are still the most abundant leftovers from the pre-outbreak world.

"To Rick Grimes, for managing to stay alive despite doing stupid things," Negan says, clinking his glass against the other two's. Rick stares at Negan with something unfriendly in his eyes but doesn't opt to say anything and takes a swig obediently.

"Could Carl be taken back to Alexandria please?" Rick asks, as if he's been storing up the question for hours. 

"I'm not leaving!" Carl abruptly answers before Negan has a chance to weigh in. "I'm not leaving unless my dad leaves with me," he clarifies to the third party in the room.

"Well, I don't think he's gonna be traveling any time soon," Negan says, a smile spreading on his face.

"Of course not," Rick rushes in. "I'm in no shape to do that, but I'm out of the danger zone-- I'm going to make it. You should go back Carl."

Despite his dad cutting Negan off, Carl has no problem understanding the real meaning of Negan's words. That Rick is probably going to be held at the Sanctuary regardless of his health status. And although Carl can see why his dad desperately wants him out of there and far from the Saviors as soon as possible, he isn't about to just abandon him amongst their enemies.

"I'm not leaving you, Dad, so forget it."

"Carl!" Rick says, almost hissing, clearly distressed to have Negan witness yet another argument between them.

Negan, for his part, looks very amused. "Guys, guys. Let's not get our panties all in a twist just yet. I'm not running a shuttle service to Alexandria here. We'll be paying our regular visit at the end of the week, and that's when we can discuss who's going where with whom. The food's getting cold."

"Thank you," Rick mumbles as Negan places a tray in his lap. He's about to pick up his fork when Negan violently spears a cube of melon which is situated about an inch away from Rick's torso. There's no chance that it's an accident that it looks like he's sticking a fork between Rick's legs then popping it in his mouth.

"Just checking that it's ripe," Negan says, grinning.

Carl seethes at how his father always drops his gaze down in the face of these strange, vulgar provocations, but he's not about to say anything and distress him further.

They eat and Negan carries on a conversation mostly with himself. Rick only throws glances Carl's way and occasionally nods when Negan poses a rhetorical question.

"They give you a room?" Rick asks Carl when Negan finally pauses to eat a forkful of scrambled eggs.

" _They_ gave him a private room with a video game console and maybe a CD player to be added," Negan provides before Carl can do more than nod.


	5. Chapter 5

Negan doesn't know what he's waiting for. He's dying to tell Rick what he already knows, and yet part of him doesn't know how to bring it up. He is downright nervous about the reception for such news. It's ridiculous, for him to be nervous about anything. He hasn't been nervous in years, probably not since Lucille was in the hospital, and he thought he wouldn't ever be again now that the world has gone to shit. That that's what gotten him this far—brazen confidence and optimism. There's no denying it, though—Negan wants this child very badly, and ideally wants Rick to be an enthusiastic party in this. It has to be presented just right.

It's only in the evening that Negan gets up the courage to summon Dr. Carson and ask him to show Rick the ultrasound. He's going to lead with the evidence and proceed from there.

"What the hell are you showing me," Rick finally states more than asks after staring at the screen. Dr. Carson has been almost completely silent, apparently leaving Negan to do all the narration.

"It's an ultrasound."

"I know what it is," Rick says, tone still steady but Negan can see his shoulders tense. "I thought you were gonna show me where the bullet cut through. Why're you showing me an ultrasound of a baby?"

Dr. Carson still says nothing, turning away hastily and pretending to fumble with knobs that he clearly doesn't really need to change. Negan figured as much.

"That's what we see inside you, Ricky." Negan pauses and waits for a reaction. Rick frowns and tilts his head, and Negan almost breathes a sigh of relief. Rick Grimes, despite being a man of considerable stubbornness, is about to accept his fate quietly because he is defeated, injured, and physically dependent on Negan's hospitality right now. 

Rick's voice jars Negan out of his reverie. "Your machine is busted. This is bullshit. Take this thing off my stomach."

Dr. Carson obliges immediately and retracts the probe, image on the screen fizzling out.

"The machine's just fine, Rick. You're going to have to accept that this is your new reality. Now, obviously you're going to need a hell of a lot of help delivering this thing, and I'm offering you all services here. I mean-- full disclosure-- if it comes down to saving the infant's life or yours I'm probably gonna go with the infant, given everything, but, cross my heart, we'll do everything we can to make sure you both make it through this..." Negan trails off his ramble as he watches Rick pull the IV needle out of his arm and slowly but surely start to pull his legs off the side of the bed. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Tryin' to get out of bed and get some walking in. I'm not gonna heal any faster just lying here listening to your nonsense."

"I wouldn't recommend—" Dr. Carson starts offering but stops when Negan strides over to Rick's bed and flings his legs back onto the mattress violently. If Rick feels pain, he only takes a sharp inhalation to betray it.

"Put the probe back on him. What is with this attitude? You're going to argue against a doctor, Rick?" Negan's voice rises to just short of a shout. "I'm not giving you the luxury of a denial phase."

Rick huffs angrily while Dr. Carson pulls his shirt up again, now sticky with gel that they hadn't wiped away. The image of the fetus reappears.

"That's growing inside you, Rick, so take a damn look!"

Rick shakes his head. "Things like that don't happen. Doctor's pulling one over on you, Negan."

Dr. Carson looks at Rick in a panic. "I'm certainly not! How could I even stage something like this?"

Negan, for his part, is still stewing over the fact that all that pleasant, amenable behavior he so enjoyed from Rick earlier in the day was just a practical gambit to survive. He knew this, of course, deep down, and even savored Rick's visible apprehension. Somehow he had counted on Rick accepting _this_ news with just as much docility, but no such luck. 

"He's just trying to have you spare my life, Negan. Now I see this for what it is. I get it now." Rick lets out a half-hearted laugh. It's a nervous laugh. Negan doubts Rick is really as skeptical as he claims and it's starting to annoy him. "I was wondering why you were keeping me alive."

"For your information, I spared your life way before I saw any of this." Negan is surprised at how offended his own tone sounds. "When I didn't shoot your stupid, barely breathing body back at Alexandria. Now lie down and shut up and let Dr. Carson here explain what we're looking at."

Negan can see Rick wants none of it though. 

"You're insane if you believe this." Rick makes another attempt at getting up, thwarted by Negan grabbing the right side of his ribs and despite the relatively light touch, Rick moans and crumples back onto the bed.

Dr. Carson mumbles something about not letting Negan's temper get the best of him, but shuts off the machine when Negan throws a glare his way.

"Listen, Prick, I am done playing games. That is _my_ child inside you, and we both know it, and I don't know or care what kind of freakyass anatomy you got going on down there, but you better smarten up and face facts. You're not going anywhere and you're not going to act stupid and endanger _my_ child."

"Are you kidding me? In what world is that _your_ child?"

Before Negan can even think it through, he slaps Rick pretty hard across the face. Rick's head snaps to the side, but he doesn't cry out. Dr. Carson jumps up and puts his body between Negan and Rick, arms stretching across like a divider, but it's too little too late, and Negan wasn't going to hit Rick again anyway.

" I can't let that happen here, Negan. He's my patient. There's a code we doctors have to follow."

Negan feels instant regret and even slight shame at how out of control that slap felt, but he'll be damned if he shows those sentiments outwardly. For just one moment after Rick spoke Negan's mind launched to a bizarre place, vividly seeing Rick far more adventurous than he ever imagined—getting reamed by multiple other men. He finds his hands tightening into fists at the mere thought, even though he's damn sure it's never happened.

"I don't care what you were getting up to and whose child you think that is—"

"I can't believe you're buying any of this fantasy in the first place," Rick spits out, still daring to interrupt him. "I'm a guy for chrissakes. What are we discussing here."

"Not claiming I understand it, but I do know that I own you, and I own whatever's inside you," Negan continues, cringing inwardly when he can already see a nascent bruise spreading on one side of Rick's face. "So that's _my_ child no matter what," he repeats, adamant that Rick accept that phrase without argument.

"You don't own your own children, you idiot," Rick mutters down, almost into his chest, but Negan hears him well enough.

"Negan..." Dr. Carson says with alarm as Negan moves right past him toward Rick.

"You wanted to walk, Rick? Let's take a walk."

Rick is shrinking away, at this point probably anticipating another blow, but Negan grabs him by the arm and begins pulling him off the bed. Rick gasps in pain but his bare feet plant firmly on the floor before Negan hoists him up to standing.

"Let's not do anything rash..." Carson cautions as he hovers around them. "He's not ready to be up and about."

Rick's breathing is labored, obviously in considerable pain.

"I'm just moving him to Carl's room. They can sort themselves out. This is a hospital bed, reserved for people who are grateful to be treated. Who accept their diagnoses."

"You let us know if the bullet wound opens up again," Carson calls after Rick as he gets dragged away, his voice shaky, but his sense of duty as a doctor clearly overriding his fear of Negan.

"I don't have time for your bullshit tonight. Got a lot of other things I've neglected while playing nanny with you," Negan says as they make slow progress down the hall, Rick's legs moving but threatening to buckle under him if Negan weren't supporting a lot of his weight. 

"I'm going to be generous and chalk all this up to the heat of the moment. You spend the night in there and consider your situation and how fucking benevolent I'm being with you. And then let me know when you're ready to talk like a civilized person."

Rick has no retort for once, and Negan wonders if it's because he's glad to be reunited with Carl, or just overwhelmed by the various pains wracking his body.

"Dad!" Carl explodes in anger as soon as the door opens and he sees them. "What'd he do to you?!"

The teen runs over but Negan shoves him aside, laying Rick out on the twin size mattress he provided for Carl, going so far as to pick up his legs for him.

"Guess you'll have to cede the bed to Daddy, kid. He can use it more than you," Negan says, knowing that's the aspect of this situation that will gnaw at Rick the most. Negan is angry, and he's happy to see Rick's expression sour on hearing that. He does regret the bruise starting to darken on Rick's cheek, and how all the day's earlier work getting on Carl's good side has been undone in one fell swoop. It's not Negan's fault that Rick chooses to be this unreasonable.

"Keep an eye on him," Negan adds as he passes Carl on his way out of the cell. "Especially since that's all you've got." Three eyes glare at him as he shuts the door and locks it.

***

Carl managed to fit on the bed next to Rick. It's a tight squeeze, but Rick is happy to be jammed against the wall, since he shouldn't be tossing and turning anyway. Carl is right beside him, sleeping on his side, his warm breath on Rick's shoulder reassuring Rick that nothing bad has actually transpired yet. They are both alive, and Negan has no specific plans to change that yet.

Carl murmurs something unintelligible in his sleep and Rick closes his eyes in relief. His son had grand plans to keep a close watch on Rick's state to make sure he didn't expire in the middle of the night. Rick is thankful Carl didn't manage to stay awake, especially since he too just lost a lot of blood.

Of course he didn't tell Carl what Negan revealed to him, despite Carl asking for the gist of the conversation over and over. Part of Rick still doesn't quite believe it, but the words he was saying in that makeshift medical ward were mostly out of shock and denial— something that managed to override his fear of Negan's possible reprisals against him or, God forbid, Carl. Now that he has time to think things through, he's shuddering with anger and revulsion.

Outlandish things have been happening ever since the outbreak, but that sonogram still beggars belief. The idea that there is a small humanoid creature growing inside him makes Rick's stomach churn. The surreal events in the RV apparently never really ended and were just getting stranger and stranger, now materializing into physical consequences.

A lot of things make sense now, unfortunately—not only Negan's absurd level of kindness to him earlier, but also the many times Rick felt queasy after breakfast in the past few months, the way he seemed to need a piss stop every half hour when out on runs, and the reason he recently had to go up a notch on his belt after wearing it the same way for years. Rick had been dismissing these peculiarities as signs of aging and his body starting to malfunction. He doesn't know whether to feel relieved about the new explanation.

The thought that it could be Negan's child inside him is particularly nauseating. It's too easy to feel that this is some contagious parasite-- yet another way Negan found to worm his way into Rick's life and destroy it from inside out. Negan can adopt a civil façade for a while, but nothing will ever change the fact that he's a monster with a club, willing to beat people to death in order to terrify others into submission. It was bad enough simply meeting such a person. It would be a whole other level of misfortune to become inextricably tied by a link like this. If it were possible, Rick would ask Dr. Carson to cut it out of him and be done with it in a heartbeat.

But when Rick thinks onward, entertaining the idea that this thing inside him is also his own child, is Carl's sibling, the revulsion softens, maybe not into affection but at least an acceptance. In some ways, this isn't the worst thing that has happened to him to date. It makes Rick waver about deciding this baby's fate like that. Rick runs his hand over his stomach, but can't feel much of a hint of what's going on inside.

Negan was furious with him just now, but he is unabashedly invested in this child coming into the world. Rick has to find ways to use that for leverage, and not only for his family. Alexandria is still in a very precarious position, and the Kingdom and Hilltop are under no good guarantees of being treated fairly either. If Negan really has managed to infiltrate Rick's life this intimately, Rick would have to return the favor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay to anyone who cares. Life occasionally gets busy O:

Rick doesn't know when he finally succumbed to sleep, but he wakes up to commotion. Disoriented, he tries to get up abruptly before being reminded not to by a sharp pain in his side. Carl is standing in front of him, shielding him from whoever's at the door, hands outstretched.

"You guys aren't taking him away. I saw what Negan did to him. You guys beat people when they're too injured to hit back."

"Carl..." Rick says, afraid that the situation is escalating quickly and his son is on the front line at the moment.

"I'm not taking him anywhere." Rick recognizes Dwight's voice although he still can't see behind Carl's body. "Negan sent these along. Said you can put them on if you're able to." Dwight finally comes into Rick's eyeline when he walks further into the room and drapes a pair of jeans and an indigo buttondown shirt over the back of a chair. Carl shifts over, still blocking Rick with his body.

"This is for you," Dwight continues, setting down a CD player and a few discs. Having emptied his hands, he takes out a cigarette and lights it. "Said I should tell you two that Rick's officially invited to Negan's room if he wants to have a discussion."

"Don't smoke in here," Carl snaps. "I thought you were fed up with Negan, promised to help us. But I guess now you're fine just running his errands again?"

Dwight sizes up father and son without saying anything, facial expression unreadable, slowly putting the cigarette out against the wall behind him.

Rick breaks the silence. "Yeah, I'll talk to Negan. Just give me fifteen minutes."

Dwight nods and leaves.

"He was supposed to help us," Carl grumbles as he kneels down on the floor, staring at his father. "Everyone just folded under pressure. That's how people like Negan keep winning."

"Let's not worry about that for now," Rick says, and with a supreme effort pulls himself into a sitting position, intent on getting back on his feet sooner rather than later. Carl watches him, the worry written plainly on his face, but he doesn't try to convince his father to lie back down. Carl needs him to heal and be functional again. Rick forges on, a cold sweat breaking out on his face from the tension and pain of putting his ribs under any sort of stress. He manages to stand up shakily, Carl rushing to steady him, and although Rick wishes he didn't need the help, he's grateful he has a son old enough to help him through this.

"I just want to wash up," he says and walks with Carl to the sink. There's no running water in the faucet and Rick uses the small bottle of water to splash on his face.

"I really hate him, Dad."

Rick pauses. "You mean Negan?"

"Look at what he did to your face! I didn't even see it fully last night."

Rick glances over at the tiny mirror splotched with rust and can just make out how one side of his face has a blue swollen splotch on one of his cheekbones

"It looks worse than it feels," Rick murmurs, but it does feel sore to the touch.

Rick takes a piss with one hand leaning against the wall. Carl turns away but uses the bucket to flush for him as Rick staggers back toward the bed.

"Hand me those clothes," he asks Carl. Rick guesses that the clothing he came in with was either destroyed or still in the wash somewhere. He's just grateful that he can get out of pajamas before he faces off with Negan.

***

"Well hey there." Negan grins and opens the door wider, motioning Rick to come through, taking over for Dwight supporting Rick's arm. "You're already looking and moving much better."

Rick says nothing as he's guided toward the couch near the windows.

"You can sit up, right? Or do you need the bed?"

"I'll sit," Rick bites off abruptly. He needs every bit of confident stance he can muster right now and lying in bed won't do, even if it might feel better.

"I don't expect you to realize, but it's a pretty big honor to be invited to this room. Not that many people have been inside, let alone had an audience here. Your son had the privilege recently..."

"Yes, he told me," Rick answers quickly, hoping to get off the subject of Carl.

"I normally offer people whiskey or something when they're in that seat, but... well, you understand..."

So that was going to be Negan's tack? Rick was ready to play along.

"I do understand. I thought about everything from last night, and I do understand."

Negan's eyes widen. "So you've come around?"

"I believe it, yes," Rick says. "I came here to negotiate." 

"Negotiate what exactly."

Rick almost pauses, but can't afford to falter. "My community is in a bad position..."

"Debatable," Negan interjects.

"They're in a bad position," Rick repeats defiantly. "If I'm going to carry this child for you, I want some things in return."

"That's cold, Rick. That's your baby you're treating like some asset to be moved around."

"You want it more than I do," Rick says, staring straight at Negan across the coffee table. "And I sure as hell am in more danger than you are having it. I think that deserves something."

Negan chuckles. "Fine, but just remember, I'm doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I could be threatening Carl's life and you'd be shitting yourself trying to do what I say. Just so we're all clear about our relative positions here."

Rick feels his pulse in his throat at the mere mention of Carl being used as a pawn between them, but he saw this coming. "First of all—if you think threatening my children is going to get you anything good here, then we're done."

"Alright, alright, Ricky, don't get yourself all worked up..." Negan raises his palms up in a jokey surrender.

"In fact," Rick continues, unfazed. "I'm gonna make that my first condition. I want guaranteed safety for Carl and Judith, no matter what. And if anything happens to me and I die, whether I deliver this baby or not, you have to promise me you'll take care of 'em."

Rick waits with bated breath. Negan is hard to predict, but Rick has a feeling he might feel flattered to be asked that kind of favor.

"You want me to take this down on paper or what...?" Negan asks, and Rick feels a wave of relief that he guessed right. He nods.

"So since we're being all formal about this, can we establish what exactly you're offering me?" Negan says as he sets back on the couch, scribbling something down on a notepad.

"I mean, at the very least I'm offering to try to carry this baby to term. In good faith."

"You gotten drunk since we rendezvoused in the RV, Rick? I'm not gonna judge, since how were you to know. Just curious."

Rick thinks back. "Had three beers."

"All in a row?"

"No. Three separate nights. Two on runs, one at home."

"Alright. And I can tell you're not into anything else just by looking at your serious, judgy face. I gotta ask—were you a cop or something before all this?"

"Something like that," Rick concedes, wondering if Negan really guessed his original profession that accurately or just heard about it through others.

"Knew it!" Negan grins. "Alright, hot mama cop. Request away."

"I want you to stop pickups from Alexandria—"

"Whoa, whoa, shit Ricky, are you being serious right now? That's going to be a straightup veto from me. That's one of the Sanctuary's lifelines you're trying to cut. And your town, no offense, kind of deserves a bit of punishment rained down on their heads."

Rick purses his lips. He foresaw this as a possible reaction. "We'll come back to it. I want Carl out of that windowless room. No more locked doors. You can keep me anywhere you like, but he's not staying there."

Negan studies Rick, smirking. "I can get him a better room, but you and I both know the locked door is for his own protection. Kid has a bad track record of causing a commotion here. I'd rather know where he is and what he's up to."

"Doesn't matter—he'll behave. I'm hoping he goes back to Alexandria soon anyway."

"Tell you what, I'll give him a better room if he stays here long-term," Negan says, smiling.

"You don't need to keep him around to control me," Rick protests. "I don't need-"

"Jesus, I just like your kid, alright? And I have a feeling he won't leave unless you leave with him."

"Is that an option?" Rick asks, something he hadn't even considered.

"Hell no," Negan says. "You're not going to leave the Sanctuary—not unless I decide to move you somewhere. That's my rule."

"I don't agree," Rick says, and Negan who already began jotting it down looks up with a quizzical expression but he's humoring Rick and listening. "This place is gloomy and depressing. If you want me to stay, you need to build a fence further around and use all the grassy spaces around here to try and grow crops."

Negan laughs and shakes his head. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm a guy you're asking to stay here. I lived in a nice suburban environment with a lawn, used to drive around freely. You can't just lock me in a concrete box and expect me to be happy with that."

"And who decided that I care whether you're happy or not?"

"You did. If we can agree here, I'll behave and do what you want."

Negan keeps shaking his head in disbelief. "Fine. So what is it you want? A fence further out there in the grass? Try to grow some shitty crops? We gave it a shot you know. Too much effort for too little fucking return."

"You were probably doing it wrong. And get rid of that eyesore walker fence and all the people shoveling stuff around them."

"Vetoed," Negan retorts. "That walker fence is our trademark. And I'm not getting rid of our third class citizens. You're not going to restructure everything I've built here just because of getting knocked up."

"That walker fence prevents that whole area from being useful."

"Rick—just for my own curiosity—what kind of leverage do you really have here? What are you going to do, try to abort the baby yourself? Just remember, if that thing dies inside you, I don't know how this virus works, but you might get eaten from inside out."

"That's a good point, that's another risk I'm taking, carrying this child for you. Don’t you think that deserves some concessions?"

Negan cracks up. "Alright, I'm retiring the walker fence."

"And the crops?" Rick asks.

"Jesus, fine, if you want that to be your pet project maybe I can arrange it. Anything else?"

"I think that brings us back to Alexandria."

Negan rolls his eyes. "Rick, let's be reasonable. I can't just stop collecting from some communities."

Rick has been maintaining eye contact with Negan the whole time. "Then stop collecting from all of them."

Negan grins. "Good one, Ricky."

"Look, I was head of Alexandria and you took me away from them."

"You mean I saved your ass," Negan interjects.

"Doesn't matter. Cancel their tributes. What do you want for that? I can give you more."

Negan stares at Rick. "What do I want? Nothing I can't take myself, without these negotiations. I want you to marry me Rick."

"What does that mean in this place," Rick scoffs.

"Means we stay together till death do us part or I get sick of you. Means we get in bed whenever I want to, and if our child makes it, we raise it together with a united front, so no badmouthing Daddy."

"Interesting definition of marriage."

"I get to define things the way I want, Rick, it's my house."

"How do you define the way this child got conceived then?"

For the first time during the entire conversation Negan looks uncomfortable. "Look, I know it wasn't the best circumstances but you're capable of putting that shit behind you, aren't you?"

"For Alexandria to go tribute-free? Sure, I'll put it behind me."

Negan worries his bottom lip with his teeth, eyes narrowed, sizing Rick up. "Alexandria's been nothing but trouble. Was it because of you alone? I think there're at least a few other feisty fuckers there who can't accept a new world order."

Rick squirms in his seat. Negan isn't stupid-- he can't very well promise on others' behalf to stay in line.

Negan licks his lips and grins. "Fine! You got it. Congratulations. I won't take anything from them except lodging and food for a few of my guys. Because you better believe I'm not taking surveillance off Alexandria. And you better be content with that, Rick. I've never been so generous in my life."

"One more thing..."

Negan starts laughing. "You know what, no, my turn. Just adding on to the marriage part. You're not having sex with anyone but me."

"Not a problem." Rick shrugs. "There ain't anyone here I'd want to have sex with."

"Don't think you've seen my harem, Ricky."

"Don't care, Negan."

Negan chews on the end of the pen, contemplating Rick in amusement. "Although now that I say that it might be kind of nifty to watch you fuck my girls. Could be quite a scene, once you're showing and all."

Rick can feel his face twist in disgust. "I'm putting up with you and no one else."

"What if I brought in that girlfriend of yours?"

"I feel like we've gotten off track," Rick deflects.

"Well, something to discuss down the road," Negan says, and grins when he sees Rick, who is probably visibly irritated. "So what else were you gonna try to demand?"

"You have people close to you, right? Simon? Dwight? Some kind of advisory group?"

Negan raises his eyebrows. "I got my inner circle, yeah."

"I want a seat in that group."

Negan's eyebrows go even higher. "The balls on you! You _lost_ that rebellion you tried to start, you do realize, right?"

"Don't make a difference now, does it?" Rick says, pointing to his stomach. "Put me in your inner circle or whatever you call them."

"What kind of example does that set, Rick? You try to start shit and kill my people and then get a seat at my round table?"

"I'm not going from being the leader of Alexandria to having no vote here."

"There's no voting. I decide everything. And you _lost_!" Negan raises his voice in exasperation. "Losers don't get a say in politics."

"You decide everything, so I know you can arrange it if you want to," Rick says.

Negan chews on his lip. "Fine, I'll give you what you want.. If you just do me one favor."

Rick watches Negan expectantly. 

"If you tame that stuff growing on your face. I can deal with a short beard, but I don't like whatever it is that you have on there now."

It's Rick's turn to smile. "... Is that all?"

"Yes," Negan snaps, but his annoyance dissolves into a smile. He writes more down before turning it over for Rick's perusal. "Sign it and then it'll be settled."

Negan has written down mostly what they discussed. Rick's eyes run over the text, feeling annoyed when he sees that Negan has promised to feed and clothe him, as if he wouldn't be able to fend for himself. Then again, between his injuries and the freak pregnancy, maybe he shouldn't be taking any of this for granted, Rick thinks.

"Says here I have to swear absolute allegiance to the Saviors," Rick says. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Means that if your Alexandrians or anyone else start something with me again, you can't just switch sides. Means that if you get so much as a whiff of rebellion from them you have to tell me."

"I'm not gonna tell you anything if you're going to go and kill people at the first sign of defiance."

Negan laughs, but it's a hollow sound without mirth. "Careful, Rick. I'll concede a lot because of that baby and your pretty face, but don't push on this. You're on my side or this doesn't work."

Rick sighs. Even he has to admit that he'd gotten a lot to go his way. He'd have to live with these terms. "How am I gonna find anything out that you don't know anyway, if you're not letting me leave this place."

"Well don't sound so damn dejected! I'll let you talk with them over radio if everyone behaves themselves. And you can be the one to tell them to behave themselves. They'll take it better coming from you, I bet."

Rick nods slowly, and signs the paper before handing it back.

Negan is beaming so wide it looks like his grin might expand past the confines of his face. "I think that was the worst negotiation I've ever had in my life. Didn't even know I could be such a pushover."

Rick knows better than to smile. He's content with what he's accomplished, but Negan is a difficult man to outmaneuver in the large scheme of things. He'll smile when he's safely alone in his own room.

"I feel like we should be clinking glasses over this, but that's kind of out of the question, huh?" Negan gets up and Rick's eyes travel up his tall lanky body. Rick winces when Negan sits down beside him in the loveseat, one leg immediately knocking into Rick's forcing Rick to move away from the contact.

"How 'bout we just make out to seal the deal?" Negan says, clasping Rick's hand in his own and bringing it to his chest. "What do you say, sweetheart?"

"You don't get to call me that," Rick bites out but lets Negan lean in and kiss him, because this feels like it's an inherent part of the deal they just made, and Rick would never go back on a promise. Kissing Negan doesn't feel comfortable at all, no matter how much Rick assures himself that none of this matters, that it's all a game for Negan. It stops being a game when Rick feels his body respond to Negan's mouth attacking his own. It's inexplicable—he feels no attraction. One of Negan's hands is roving his body as they make out, and Rick can barely stifle a gasp when Negan squeezes his inner thigh. It's not really pleasure he's feeling but his body is surging into a strange, electrified state.

"You know I love strong-willed people, don't you?" Negan asks. "I mean I love them breaking them in, but I am really into them."

Negan untucks and lifts up the hem of Rick's shirt and starts kissing around his navel. That proximity does Rick in. He can feel his erection start to strain against his jeans. 

"That's so fucking flattering, Rick," Negan says, craning down to run his chin along the bulge in Rick's jeans.

"It's nothing..." Rick mumbles. "Leave it alone," he adds lamely, with unmistakable worry in his tone as Negan begins to unbutton and unzip him, threatening to liberate the unwelcome erection into plain sight.

"Oh it's definitely not nothing," Negan gloats. "Glad to see the attraction goes both ways, because that's going to make our marriage so much easier to manage."

Rick grimaces as Negan's hand wraps around his cock, pulling it out into the cold air of the room. Most disturbing of all is the feeling inside him, like something is gaping open, contracting and shifting around. Rick refuses to acknowledge that his body is yearning for something that sickening. It goes against everything he's ever wanted sexually or socially. Negan is downright repulsive to him right now and yet his stomach flips as he remembers their last time in the RV, and how it felt. It hurt, and it was terrifying, and now his body is suddenly demanding it again for no reason Rick can comprehend.

"Look at you... you are something else," Negan mutters, sounding almost reverent. As he starts to stroke Rick's cock up and down, Rick is dismayed to feel Negan's other hand creep into his jeans from the back, trying to insert a finger inside. 

"You impressed I guessed your jean size right?" Negan asks, chuckling. "Look damn good on you."

At this point, Rick is genuinely dreading a potential orgasm. The last thing he wants is the muscles around his ribs spasming, nor does he really want Negan to see him in the throes of something like that. "Negan, I can't do this right now--" he finally chokes out. He chokes on the final word because Negan manages to breach into him with two fingers and Rick can suddenly feel a gush of fluid dripping out of him.

"What the hell is this stuff, Rick?" Negan asks as he pulls back his hand and Rick is nauseated to see him dip those fingers into his mouth. "Honestly, it doesn't taste that bad."

Negan laughs when he leans in for a kiss and Rick pulls away violently, unwilling to share said taste. Undeterred, Negan leans in further, right near Rick's ear. "You getting this wet just for me, darling?"

"Negan, I really can't..." Rick mutters as Negan is leaning over him. "I ain't just sayin' that. My ribs..."

There's a strange, wild sparkle in Negan's eyes. He embraces Rick once again, pressing his nose into Rick's hair. "I could just eat you up. My most expensive spouse. You smell fucking delicious." Negan punctuates each phrase with a ferocious kiss along Rick's neck, Rick trying to cringe away to no avail, praying there are no hickeys being left in the wake of Negan's affections.

"I just... really have to fuck you," Negan declares, as if that explains anything happening between them. He shuffles Rick over to the imposing king size bed in his room, pulling the jeans down off Rick's ass before sitting him down on the bed. "Shh... Shh... I'm not gonna hurt you..." 

"You're already hurting me," Rick mutters morosely. His face is starting to burn with embarrassment at how hard he's gotten over nothing, but fortunately Negan doesn't seem to be looking up much—transfixed by what's going on below Rick's waist.

"Just let me... fuck, you are dripping down here! Making a total mess. You must want me real bad, poor thing."

Rick makes a scoffing sound, but only because it's mortifying to feel what he is feeling right now. His body is pining for more touching, for things to be put inside him. That craving is layered over the pain in his ribs and the pain where the bullet went through him, and it's honestly beginning to drown them out. Negan grips Rick by the shoulders and lowers him down onto his back slowly. This is what Negan counts as considerate treatment, Rick thinks bitterly. Fucking him _gently_ while he is still healing from injuries. 

Rick looks down and sees Negan crawl up his body, careful not to put any weight on Rick but obviously taking himself in hand and aiming to get in.

"What the fuck do you even have down there?" Negan says, panting, as they both hear the loud squelching sound of Negan pushing in steadily and not particularly slowly until he's in to the hilt. It takes only a few movements in and out before Negan jerks in orgasm. A sheepish, urgent "Shit-s-sorry..." tumbles out of Negan's mouth. Rick didn't see his face last time it happened, and he's almost amused at how Negan's eyes roll up for a second, even as his body keeps jolting forward.

"This shit again?" Negan asks as he tries to pull out of Rick's body to no avail, but he's not frantic like he was in the RV. "Fuck, but it feels awesome. Feels like you're wringing my dick out."

Rick doesn't trust himself to speak coherently, and so he can't protest that he's doing no such thing. His insides feel stretched out to the brink of tearing, in fact, and it's sending tingling sensations down his whole body. He won't call it pleasure—it hurts too much to be called that—but he squeezes his legs around Negan's body, not knowing what he wants anymore-- Negan to pull out this instant or maybe stay in there forever.

Rick's hand flies to his mouth, and he bites down on it to stifle a cry as his whole body convulses. Ropes of come shoot out of him, landing on his chest and Negan's shirt, and Rick can feel that now perhaps his insides really are wringing Negan's dick out.

"GoddammitRick..." Negan manages to slur, and it looks like he's coming a second time, face looking strained, almost pained.

Rick can feel both of them pulsing against each other and lets out a moan, unable to stifle himself anymore.

"You... are ... going to kill me... with that freaky body of yours..." Negan pants out as he raises his head, coming up for air. "You still doin' okay?"

Rick looks away, not wanting to dignify the question with a response. As far as he's concerned, Negan took without asking once again.

"Rick, look at me," Negan says, the commanding phrase tempered by a note of concern. 

Rick finally makes eye contact. He wants to look stern but all the sensations in his body are likely showing on his face. Negan doesn't look right either—flushed, sweaty, his eyes half-lidded.

"You okay?" Negan repeats, breathing pretty heavily himself.

"As okay as last time," Rick grumbles. It's not true, strictly speaking, but Rick won't flatter Negan by disclosing how his body has decided to betray him and enjoy itself during this ordeal.

Negan strokes Rick's curls away from his face, then kisses him on the cheek that's bruised. "I'm adding a rule to that contract," he says, somewhat absently, still tracing a finger across Rick's face. "Not going to hit you anymore. At least not till this baby arrives. No matter how annoying you try to get."

"Don't really care about that," Rick snaps. It takes some kind of nerve to make promises like that while he's still buried balls deep inside Rick's body—the finale of an act Rick never wanted in the first place.

Negan scans his face, a sour expression on him which slowly dissolves back into his habitual grin. "You testing me, Rick? Trying out how annoying I allow you to be with me? 'Cause I can be pretty fucking patient when it suits me." 

Rick maintains eye contact, even though Negan's gaze has hardened into a challenging, domineering one.

"Fine, I'll grant you something you do care about," Negan suddenly says, and Rick wonders what prompted this. "Bounty's off your favorite buddy Daryl. He can go to Alexandria or Hilltop or wherever the fuck he wants to go. I can't be bothered with shit like that anymore. He can stop hiding."

"Thank you," Rick says, still finding it hard to believe. "That means a lot."

"I feel like I keep saying it, but let's be friends, Rick," Negan says, smiling as he echoes something from their first encounter. 

"I think we're more than friends," Rick says dryly, eyes glancing downward where their bodies are still joined and no sign of letting up.

"That we are!" Negan laughs and just that small movement is enough to reverberate through Rick's body and remind him that his ribs are still hurting. "That's the spirit I want to see, Ricky."

They stay locked together for quite some time, but Negan doesn't fret and somehow that transfers over to Rick's mindset too. They just bide their time. Someone comes by and knocks on Negan's door about a convoy of vehicles that's going to be setting out for an outpost, but he shouts across the room that he's busy and will deal with it later. Rick, for his part, tries out tensing or relaxing his insides, but almost none of it seems to be under voluntary control.

The minutes tick by. Rick wishes there was something to look at or listen to besides Negan, but the whole world feels like it's closed in around their entwined bodies.

"Warming my cock, warming my baby..." Negan says, smiling. "You are one hot little number." 

Rick presses his lips into a line.

"I'm serious, you know. You're probably my favorite person in the world right now. Not the one I least want to kill, mind you, but... you get it, I think."

Rick shrugs. He wishes he could get it. He understands Negan enough to use himself as leverage and get positive things out of him, but that's a precarious place with someone as impulsive as Negan.

"Fucking hell, _again_?!" Negan chokes out just as another orgasm suddenly wracks his body. Rick feels something inside him contracting rhythmically and it's hard to tell whether that's Negan's body or his own anymore. It's as if it hardly matters. He digs his heels into Negan's body and closes his eyes as he feels another orgasm hitting him.

When they're finally able to come apart, Rick descends back down to reality, starts to feel the aches in his body a lot more acutely again, and just how sweaty and messy he is. Negan gives Rick a very superficial wipe with a rag before pulling the jeans back on his body.

"This color looks so fucking good on you," he coos as he buttons Rick's shirt.

Negan escorts him back into Carl's room and closes the door right behind him.

Carl is sitting on the floor surrounded by CDs, apparently finally giving in and easing his boredom.

"Led Zeppelin, huh?" Rick asks halfheartedly.

"Yeah... don't think I ever heard it before." Carl stares after his father as Rick makes his way over to the sink.

Rick doesn't want to know what Carl thinks he was up to in Negan's room. His sweaty hair and rumpled shirt probably say it all. As he washes his face in the sink with the water bottle, he realizes there are purple marks on his neck. He turns up the shirt's collar, covering them up as much as he can. Carl's gaze has been on him the whole time.

Rick staggers back to the bed and lies down gingerly, turning away toward the wall. 

Carl turns off the music. "Dad..." he says, almost as a question.

"'M fine," Rick murmurs. "Just tired."

Carl approaches the bed, kneeling beside it. "Dad, tell me what's wrong. I can handle it. It's harder not knowing."

"Nothing bad." Rick sighs. "Just had to make sure Negan would stop abusing Alexandria. Didn't manage anything for the Kingdom or Hilltop yet."

"Dad..." Carl says so softly and plaintively that Rick can't help but turn back around, reaching out to tousle Carl's hair. "You can tell me what's going on. I'm old enough, I can take it. I won't think less of you, I know it's not your choice to be here. I decided for you, and now you're suffering because of it."

Rick throws a hand over his eyes, a wistful laugh rising out of him suddenly. "I'm not suffering, definitely not from anything you did, Carl. It's all going to be okay eventually."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update. Hopefully haven't lost the "feel" of the fic in the interim.

"Can I just ask why we're inviting the enemy into this room?" Simon asks. "I don't think I'm the only one confused here."

Regina nods her head when Simon looks around for support. Gavin is only looking to Negan, but is probably curious for an answer. Dwight never looks interested in anything, fiddling around with a half-used cigarette in hands and staring at the table surface. Eugene is hunched and looking down too, but then he doesn't have much room to talk.

"We came to a little agreement," Negan says, smiling because he's amused by the situation—amused at how perplexed they all look, and amused by what's about to go down. "Rick asked for this in return for something else. So we'll let him sit in on the meeting."

"I just don't see how we can discuss—" Simon gets cut off by Negan using the walkie talkie.

"Ricky, you hear me? Come upstairs if you wanna be part of the meeting."

"I just don't see how we're going to discuss anything about Alexandria when their leader's right here..."

"Ex-leader. He's leader of nothing now," Negan corrects him, twirling Lucille slightly as she rests on his shoulder.

"Leading us around if we're letting him into this room..." Regina begins but trails off when she catches sight of Negan's unimpressed face.

Rick knocks before opening the door and walking in, and Negan can't help but smile at how polite his southern spouse can be sometimes. Rick pauses when he sees there's no empty seat. The assembled also cast puzzled looks around. 

Negan can see Rick's stress showing. He tugs at his belt loop, and that nervous motion probably makes a lot more sense when he has a Colt or an axe in a holster at his hip. There's not even a belt there now. Negan stares at his waist, but there's still nothing to see, especially in clothing. Carson is still the only other person privy to Rick's circumstances. He had been assuring Negan that the baby was progressing well, and that the unimpressive bump could be due to Rick being a man, larger than the average woman and with more muscles to keep the expansion in check so far—that even a woman's first pregnancy was often small through the second trimester. 

It's not that Negan wants it to be obvious yet. Something about telling everyone about this important development feels like jinxing it. Maybe it isn't even superstitious—that kind of information becoming public could put Rick at risk from parties Negan wouldn't be able to identify ahead of time. Negan has no illusions that some of his subjects have no real love for him, not least of all some members of his inner circle. Rick, for his part, doesn't seem to have told anyone and Negan can't decide if it's an understandable measure for safety and privacy, or an insult of sorts—that he is not enthused about the baby, and maybe still hopes for some way out of this. 

Maybe that's why Negan sometimes has the urge to see Rick distended, obvious to everyone, unable to hide it and forced to contend with it. It should be real enough at this point. They already know it's a boy. Negan has insisted on ultrasounding with a weekly frequency—it borders on recreational by now. Rick has been a good sport about it so far, never refusing a session with a probe running over his gelled up stomach.

Negan likes giving in to Rick. But he also likes to tease him, cause him distress, rile him up, and he likes to keep that switch random and unpredictable. That's probably why he lets Rick into the meeting with his inner circle, but only after making sure there are no extra chairs in the room.

"Looks like you'll have to sit in my lap if you want to sit down."

Rick scowls and crosses his arms.

"You asked for a seat at the table. You never specified you wanted a whole fucking empty chair to yourself, Ricky." Negan chuckles, patting his knee invitingly. He watches Rick walk over to stand near Eugene, at nearly the opposite end of the table. "You'd better sit where you're told."

"I'm fine right here."

Negan slams the bat down on the table surface. "When I tell you to sit somewhere, you better fucking skip over and sit pronto."

Rick is frowning but obeys. Everyone else is silent in their befuddlement as Rick plants himself on the very edge of Negan's knee, posture perfect, looking ready to spring back up any moment, but still obeying.

"Nice," Negan hisses through his grin. "Everyone? This is my new trophy wife from Alexandria. He agreed to this arrangement himself, because I'm not a tyrant. He wanted to sit in on these meetings, so let's be civil and give him a warm welcome."

Rick's breath is heavy with anger but he doesn't take any bait and says nothing—only moves away slightly when Negan taps the blunt end of Lucille against the small of his back.

Almost everyone at the table is shifting their gaze uncomfortably. Dwight coughs and only Simon manages to grin although even his eyes look like they're busy gauging this new situation.

The meeting starts to normalize when the men give their progress reports. Eugene has been using an outpost to set up a bullet factory, Regina reports on the current distribution of weapons at the outposts—including all the guns obtained from the brief Alexandria rebellion. Negan casts a surreptitious glance at Rick to see how he's handling the humiliating reminders of Alexandria's defeat but he doesn't flinch. Simon and Gavin report on what they've collected from Hilltop and the Kingdom that week before things take a turn and Simon explains that they're not collecting enough to sustain the Sanctuary's operations. Regina asks why they don't take over the Garbage community and start collecting tribute from them. Simon and Gavin argue about which of their communities could afford to give up more tribute, until Negan points out that they should ask more from both places.

"You can't do that to them!" Rick suddenly pipes up, and Negan thinks about how if Rick had used 'we' instead of 'you' he might have been pleased enough over it to give in and retract that decree.

"Zero sum game, Rick." Simon shrugs. "If your little hometown would start chipping in again maybe the burden could be taken off the others."

"Bullshit! Before you knew about Alexandria the sum of the game was smaller."

"Maybe because we didn't have to devote manpower to keeping an eye on Alexandria before we knew about it." Simon smirks.

Negan is mildly annoyed by having anyone other than him be confrontational with Rick, but the man had to know what he was in for when he asked to be here. Negan can't very well tell Simon to put up with an enemy at the table _and_ forbid him to argue with him. A wave of pleasure washes over him when Rick's pleading blue gaze is suddenly cast towards him. The guy was seriously expecting support?

"Alexandria set a very shitty precedent and didn't get punished, Rick, so the other communities have to be humbled a bit more. Can't have another fucking coalition form against us now can we?"

Rick looks desperately to Eugene, the only other Alexandrian in the room, but Eugene would never side with him. He's a man scared for his own life first and foremost, which makes him more loyal to Negan than perhaps any of the others in the room. Negan is perfectly aware that most of them would pounce on the opportunity to seize the top spot if he were ever to fall out of the picture. That is why he is entertained watching Rick try to find a friendly face here. They're not even friendly to each other.

"You can't punish the other communities. They didn't agree to help us when we asked," Rick says, now looking at no one in particular as he tries to make his case. "You can't possibly blame them for what we did!"

Negan can't help but notice the placement of the 'you' and 'we' again. There was a long way to go before Rick would accept that he was now a citizen of the Sanctuary.

"It's not about blame—it's about the Sanctuary surviving," Gavin says quietly, not looking particularly happy with anything being discussed. "And it's about them understanding who sets the rules. Whatever we say, they have to put up with it. That's a big part of being ruled."

"Rick never did get that part down pat, so he might not understand." Negan chuckles, especially when he sees Rick turn and glare at him.

Negan pets Rick's back with palpable affection but Rick arches away from the touch and isn't going to give up easy, addressing the rest of the group. "You can _trade_ , you know. You have people producing things here—preserving food, building gadgets, still finding old-world things on runs. Why can't there be an exchange?"

Regina's short temper finally snaps. "Maybe you haven't visited down in the lower floors, busy being the Boss's guest of honor and all, but we got hundreds of mouth to feed here. There's not enough to trade."

"So the longterm plan here is for the Sanctuary to keep being this big leech on all the surrounding—"

"Ricky, maybe it's time to kindly shut the fuck up and let someone else have the floor, hm?" Negan raises his voice but only slightly, winking, and playfully touches Lucille to Rick's ass again.

"If you'd just let me get some crops started—" Rick tries to get words in before being interrupted again.

"On it, Rick. I keep my promises. You can play farmer out in front of the building to your heart's fucking content, but when's the earliest time we're going to have edible shit coming out of that ground?"

Rick's shoulders slump. "November probably?"

"Well it's fucking August right now, and hundreds of people here and at the outposts need to eat sometimes between August and November." Negan is mildly annoyed when he can see Simon and Regina looking smug. Humiliating Rick in front of his subordinates was simultaneously gratifying and irritating, somehow. 

Once the meeting adjourns with new plans for an expanded tribute from Hilltop and Kingdom, Negan excuses everyone but Rick, holding him in place by the wrist.

"So how did you like your first meeting with my inner circle? Pretty mindnumbing run of the mill stuff, if you ask me," Negan says as he taps Rick's ass with Lucille's blunt head again.

"Stop touching me with that," Rick hisses, trying to push the bat away, but manages to get a cut on his hand because he grazes the barbed wire.

"She's totally clean, Rick. Don't be rude. You were already really disrespectful today when you wouldn't sit in my lap."

Rick whirls around and almost manages to grab Lucille out of Negan's hand before Negan pulls her away protectively. He manhandles Rick down over the table by twisting his arm behind his back.

"One of these days, Ricky, one of these days. You keep teasing me with your stupid shit and you're going to end up fucked in public, maybe up on the catwalks in the mess hall. During a meal so everyone can see you from down there. Dinner and a show."

Negan stares down at Rick, breathing heavily, trying to squirm away from under his one arm pressing him down into the table.

"Jesus..." he mutters when he realizes there is a big moist spot on his pant leg where Rick had been planted. "Did your ass drip all over me during the meeting...?"

Rick struggles under his grip without responding.

"You want me inside you, you can't hide from that fact forever, Ricky," Negan says.

"I don't want anything, there's something's wrong with my body," Rick mutters. "Ever since... ever since..."

"Ever since you got your first taste. I know," Negan says, laughing, leaning down to lick Rick's neck which suddenly looks delicious, but Rick manages to elbow him sharply in the stomach with his free arm.

Rick breaks free and stands there, chest heaving, rubbing the arm that got twisted behind his back, staring at Negan who has to lean over the table and recover from getting the wind knocked out of him.

"Carl's going back to Alexandria on tomorrow's convoy. I'll go there with him, tell him we're just getting our things and heading back, but I'm leaving him there."

It feels like another punch in the gut to Negan. These last ten days had been kind of a joy—he gave Carl his own room with a lock on the inside instead of outside, and with a window. Everything that Rick requested, really. He'd debated the relative merits of the Rolling Stones and the Beatles with the kid, took him out on a few driving lessons, and even entrusted him with a gun on a deer hunting trip they took one day. Negan could tell Carl's mind was turning over the possibility of killing Negan in open country, and was immensely pleased when he could see the moment the teenager decided against it. The kid saw value in him, dare he say, even a parental sort of authority. And now, Rick was about to take all that away.

"That hurts, you know. We were just getting friendly. I already feel like a real stepparent."

"Maybe that's why I think it's time for him to go."

Negan grins. "And here I thought maybe we could grab little Judith and bring her over here instead. Wouldn't want to split up the family."

Rick says nothing, and Negan knows he's serious.

"Alright, I get it. Don't want your boy to see his father turn into a freak of nature. Fair enough, I guess, although I have half a mind to tell him myself. He has the right to know eventually. That's his brother. There's no way you're going to keep that from him forever, not if I can help it."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Rick grumbles. He starts moving towards the door.

Negan is angry, and realizes the hardon he got while holding Rick down on the table has still not gone away. Maybe he should have made it clearer that the sexual overture was an official, marital duty demand, in fact. 

"'D change my pants, if I were you!" Negan shouts after Rick instead of what he wants to shout, even though the moisture seems to have mostly dried and no longer visible on Rick's jeans.

The rest of the day is miserable. Negan goes about his business as usual, but every time there's a pause he remembers that this will be Carl's last day at the Sanctuary, and that Rick hasn't accepted that he's a Sanctuary citizen for the foreseeable future. He avoids the two of them, and even jolts slightly when Carl comes up behind him and starts telling him about Rick's request to go visit Alexandria. 

Negan nods dumbly, shrugs, feigning that he hasn't heard this plan before.

"My dad says he's going to get seeds from home too. So we can start planting things here."

Home. Alexandria's still home in both of their minds. Negan grits his teeth. "Sounds good to me."

Carl's face looks relieved. He obviously wants to see the old homestead. But if Negan knows him well enough, he's going to be irate when he finds out Rick is going to leave him behind. 

Rick. Negan's been half-hard the whole day. Far from getting over that morning's tension, it feels like the feeling of unfulfillment is only mounting. After dinner, when Negan has a spare moment he gives in and pays a visit to his harem, picking out a girl and giving her a quick fuck in his bedroom. It doesn't satisfy him quite enough. He sends her off, back to the wives' rooms.

It's around 10 pm when he walks quietly to Rick's room, which is Carl's old jail room, and peeks in through the small glass window. Rick is inside, thankfully, curled up on the bed. Negan walks in. The lamp is still on, but Rick has apparently fallen asleep.

Negan is about to walk back out, when Rick inhales deeply and turns toward Negan, opening his eyes. A book that was still open falls down on the floor and he scrambles to pick it up.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Negan says, surprised at how soft he sounds.

"It's fine," Rick says, still sounding half-asleep. "Fell asleep reading."

Negan can't bring himself to say certain words. He wants to apologize for making a spectacle out of Rick. He wants to ask to fuck Rick hard and fast.

"What are you reading."

"Nothing exciting."

"John Grisham. Must have gotten that from that tiny Charlottesville airport. Supposed to be all page turners in there."

Rick looks at him and Negan knows he should get to the point.

"You wanna sleep somewhere more comfortable?"

Negan's heart overflows with relief when Rick nods slowly.

"Thank you for letting Carl leave," Rick says as he walks into Negan's room, one step behind Negan. "Please don't tell him ahead of time."

"No problem," Negan says, but he cringes internally, wondering if Rick sees every invitation to bed as some kind of transaction—in this case repayment for agreeing to send Carl back. "Tell me, Rick, did you feel weird all day after not getting some this morning, or was it just me?"

Rick blinks at him.

"Cause I tried to wank it away, even got Tanya to try to help me out, but nothing really helped."

Rick doesn't say a thing but begins undressing.

"So nothing, huh. Your body's wet as a waterfall but you're not bothered at all?"

"I'm bothered," Rick says very quickly and quietly as he takes off his shirt and climbs on the bed.

Negan remembers himself and quickly undresses too. "You all ready for me?" he asks, dipping a finger into Rick's body. It's already slippery, but Negan has a strange urge to bury his face between Rick's legs, despite the dull ache in his balls and all the hours he's waited for this moment. He pushes Rick down into a position, gripping his thighs, tilting his hips, and finally pulling his cheeks apart with his thumbs before delving in with his tongue.

"Negan..." Rick exhales, but there's no note of protest, only disbelief.

"Come on, baby, drip all over me, on my face," Negan says, breathless, wondering if Rick can even understand the words he says between tonguelappings. He's hard as he'll ever be, already, cock feeling like it's scorching and pulsing, bobbing in the air, desperate for contact.

"Negan...." Rick repeats, sounding pained.

"You want me inside you, don’t you, sweet baby?" Negan looks up towards Rick's face. Rick isn't saying anything, but his face is flushed, his mouth hanging open. Negan pushes himself upwards, pushing Rick's legs back as well, and entering Rick all in one easy motion. Rick lets out a moan, and Negan would like to flatter himself because it sounds less pained than a moan of relief. At least the man's ribs have mostly healed, but Negan figures he shouldn't get too rough in any case.

He gets maybe five, six thrusts in, he can't even count, before he's spent, done, and also trapped, held, squeezed and strangulated by something in Rick's body. He's swollen and he can't get back out. Rick's body is never far behind when they get stuck like this. He twitches, and Negan feels his cock jerk and pump fluid on both of their chests. Negan slumps down on Rick, momentarily forgetting that there's something between them that ought not to be crushed.

He feels Rick's chest struggle to rise underneath his weight. Suddenly he feels something else, lower down.

"Was that the baby moving?"

"I think... that was my stomach... making noise." Rick breathes in with some effort between each phrase, and Negan finally shifts his weight off him.

"You have dinner, Rick? Don't be going on a diet when our son's inside you."

"I ate," Rick says tersely.

"You throwing up in the mornings?"

"I don't throw up," Rick answers. "Haven't at least since... 

"The RV?" Negan offers while Rick is thinking about it.

"At least since the world went to shit," Rick counters.

"Got any cravings yet?" Negan asks. He knows he sounds playful and annoying, but he's in a sudden good mood after having emptied his load into Rick, like all his earlier irritability has been magically lifted, and the contrast is just too much for him to contain himself.

"Pineapple. Pecan pie. Dippin' Dots ice cream," Rick rattles off.

"Are you just fucking with me Rick? Cause I'll be trying to get those for you. Maybe get people killed to get them."

"I'm kidding," Rick says, and smiles ever so slightly, in a half-committed, tilted way, and Negan doesn't know if Rick knows, but that's the first time he's cracked a joke in his presence. Negan wants to record this moment on video for all posterity to see, and possibly for himself to fap to.

They're locked together and neither of them is falling asleep, so Negan tries to have a decent conversation—grateful that Rick seems to have forgiven him for a public humiliation without a real apology. He makes the mistake of asking Rick what the plan is for winter crops, and gets bored as soon as he starts getting his answer—kale or alfalfa or some hardy shit like that. Rick goes on and on, explaining things about frosts making certain crops sweeter and more edible, about other things like cover crops dying over winter and providing fertilizer for spring. Negan has no clue where Rick picked up this type of knowledge. He's impressed that a man he assumed spent most of his days toting guns and venturing out on scavenging runs is also well-versed in something so domestic and nurturing.

Despite still being hilt-deep in the man still talking to him, Negan feels his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Reality weaves right into dreams about what kind of life they could eventually build together. It's an absurd but vivid picture-- several kids running around in a suburban yard, with a cute little vegetable garden, Negan sitting on a porch, Rick serving him cold lemonade with one hand, an infant balanced in the crook of his other arm, his pretty, manly, and oh so maternal spouse.

Negan is pulled out of that pleasant scene when he feels Rick pull himself off of him. Negan doesn't know if his plan was to go back to his room, but he prevents that possibility by pulling Rick into a spooning embrace.

"You are so sweet when you want to be, Ricky... It's pretty amazing."

"Don't really have a choice, do I." 

Rick shuts his eyes and seems to drift off to sleep, but his words hang in the air, cutting coldly into everything. It's as if he's not willing to let Negan hold on to any happy illusion for too long. Negan didn't choose this for him. There was no way to know how all of this would unfold. Rick couldn't blame him for _all_ of the shit's that's gone down between them, could he? Negan squeezes him tighter, and it's hard to know the proportion of anger to affection in that embrace.


End file.
